Moulin Rouge WWE Style
by Psycho Chloe
Summary: Could you even IMAGINE wrestler's in Moulin Rouge? Well, if you can't, this is the story for you. The whole movie redone, WWE style. Oh my God, help us all. *INCOMPLETE*


MOULIN ROUGE - WWE STYLE  
  
By: Chloe Richard  
  
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I don't own any rights to the movie "Moulin Rouge" by Baz Luherman and Craig Pearce. I don't own the rights to any of the names used in this story or the songs, or the words, probably. All I really own is a CD I just bought yesterday from babysitting money. "WWE Anthology" to be exact. PLEASE, PLEASE review!!! If ya don't ya won't get the next chapter! I did change a lot from the original movie, but it's just to make it my own. I know this is a really funky idea for a story, but I try. And if ya really don't like and think I shouldn't even bother TELL ME!! And SEE MOULIN ROUGE! It's the best movie EVAAAAAA!!!THANX!  
  
~*Jeffsgurl108*~  
  
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A dark shadowy character slowly appears from a trap door a gloomy looking building. His face is painted many shades of white, blue and red. You can tell from the redness in his eyes and the smear of his make up that he had been crying. He opens his mouth and a sweet voice breaks through the silent night, singing,  
  
"There was a boy....a very strange, enchanted boy..."  
  
A misty, dreamlike figure appears next to him. It's a young man. He is smiling and laughing happily. His dark hair and deep brown eyes gleam in the mid-day sun of the day the dream had occurred.  
  
"They say he wandered very far, very far, over land and sea..."  
  
The figure disappears and once again the man is alone. The night dissolves into a motel room not too far in the distance. It's dark and gloomy and there are empty bottles of alcohol, clothes and other miscellaneous things strewn about the pace. In the corner there is a person huddled with his knees to his chest. He looks up wearily from crying and begins to stand.  
  
"And then one day...one magic day he passed my way....and while we spoke of many things, fools and kings, this he said to me....."  
  
His long dark hair is matted and dirty and he has a beard to match from not shaving in months. His brooding dark eyes search the room for a purpose and they settle on an old typewriter on a desk in the corner. He walks over and slumps into his chair. He begins to type. He mouths the words that as they appear on the soft white paper.  
  
"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return..."  
  
Young Man (Narrating as he types): OMEGA, a nightclub of sorts. Ruled over by Vince McMahon. A kingdom of nighttime fantasies. Where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and talented people of the streets. And the most beautiful of these was the woman I loved, Lita, a diva. She sold herself to men. They called her "The Women's Champ", and she was the star of OMEGA....the woman I loved is....  
  
The young man looks out his motel window. He tries to hide his emotions but a tear reluctantly makes its way down his cheek. He hesitates to speak.  
  
"..Dead..." He almost whispers to himself, "I first came to OMEGA one year ago. It was 2000, the summer of love. I knew nothing of OMEGA, Vince McMahon, or Lita. The world had been swept up in the wrestler's revolution and I had traveled to Florida to be a part of it. On a hill near Orlando was the city of Ft. Lauderdale. It wasn't like my dad had said,"  
  
A thinking bubble appears over his head of an old man wearing a purple truckers hat, pointing a finger at him and saying,  
  
"SIN CITY!"  
  
The bubble disappears and the young man continues to write, shaking off the frightening thought of the old man.  
  
"But the center of the wrestling world with hardcore wrestlers, light heavyweights, divas, heavyweights, highfliers and storyline writers! The were known as "The leader's of the wrestlers revolution". Yeah, I'd come to live a penniless existence. I had come to wrestle, and write storylines and poetry about truth, beauty and that which I believed in most of all, LOVE."  
  
Suddenly, the young man's father appears in the thinking bubble again, this time waving his hands in the air in frustration.  
  
"ALWAYS this REDICULOUS obsession with LOVE!" He groans. The young man frowns and swats at the thinking bubble, making it go away. He nods happily and dusts his hands off together. He leans back in his chair and places his hands in his lap as he begins to reflect on the year passed.  
  
  
  
  
  
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HA! Well, WHADYA THINK!? PLEASE review! This is something I've been trying to do for a while and I don't know whether to continue or not! THANX! AND KEEP READING!!! 


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